A Phantomy Christmas
by El loco uno
Summary: Erik discovers Christmas...who knew Santa was evil? R


I want a Punjab for Christmas! 

Erik: That would mean a slow and painful death for whom?

Christine…or Raoul…whoever crosses my path first

Erik: Uh…right…Tara doesn't own anything she mentions that doesn't belong to her.

Erik, that makes very little sense…

Erik: Perfect.

* * *

The Paris Opera House was alive with activity. Erik was having trouble sleeping with the constant noise. Gosh, a coffin isn't sound proof!

The masked man decided to go and see what all the noise was about. He appeared far above the stage, and peered down. There were many stage hands moving things about. One, for instance was hanging MISTLETOE from the entrance way. Why on earth would anyone do that? Erik was determined to get to the bottom of this. He glided silently to the wall, and slid up behind an unsuspecting worker.

"You…" Erik began, very quietly

"Eh? Who be there?" the stage hand started to turn.

"Do not move. I am M. Le Fantome. I have a few questions." Erik said in his creepiest voice.

"Oh!" the man gasped. The Phantom of the Opera was right behind him! "Begging your pardon, sir!" he stuttered

"Silence!" The phantom said impatiently. "Now, why are you all causing such a commotion?"

"Why, sir, Christmas is approaching!"

"Christmas?" Erik asked hesitantly. What is this Christmas he spoke of?

"Sir, you haven't heard of Christmas?"

"Explain."

"Well, we are getting ready for the gala on Christmas Eve. I heard that Santa is going to come."

"Who is…San…ta?" Who was Santa? Was he an Opera singer? Well, Erik certainly hadn't ever heard of him.

"Santa is a jolly old man who gives presents to everybody who had been good. But, if you are bad, you get coal." the stagehand explained

"And you say he is coming on Christmas Eve? How will he get in?"

"Through the Chimney, Monsieur."

The stagehand heard a whoosh. He turned around, and there was no Phantom to be found.

-------

"Now, what to do. I would much rather not have an old man entering my lair in the middle of the night." Not after the Don Juan Triumphant incident. Erik remembered that night clearly. Somehow, the fop had gotten past all of the traps, and whisked Christine away. He didn't really mind that he had taken Christine, it was the fact that Raoul had escaped death by his traps numerous times that night. That infernal brat was getting annoying. It was always saying 'Sing with me angel' or 'Play me a song, angel' His name was not Angel! Angel was a girl's name, and girls have cooties! Erik nodded to reassure himself. Girls are icky.

"What should I do, Ayesha?" Erik looked to him Siamese cat for ideas.

The cat simply gave him a look that said 'Why on Earth don't you want Santa to give me some catnip?' and stalked off to nap on the stool by Erik's Organ.

"Because I haven't been good. And since I've been bad, I'll get coal. do you know how hard it is to get coal stains out of this carpet?" Erik replied to his cat. He later, after the affair of the Santa (as the papers called it) was done and over with, thought and pondered over why he had talked to his cat.

"Meow…" Ayesha said lazily. She probably meant something like "My human is absolutely stark raving mad."

"I know! I'll set traps. Santa won't know him hit him."

And with that, Erik strode into his closet, and began looking for something, anything, that would trick Santa. He found many things.

--------

"Finished!" the Phantom grinned and looked at his masterful work. On the roof of the Opera House, were two chimneys. There should only be one. The second one had arrows pointing too it. It was also covered in Christmas lights and signs that read things like 'This is NOT a trap' and 'Jolly old men named Santa are welcome.' Erik set up the second, faux real, chimney so that it led directly into the lake, where the Phantom would be waiting, Punjab in hand.

Erik swiftly went back to lair and sat down in a rocking chair beside the lake. He looked at his clock. It was almost midnight. Erik's eyes were getting heavy and he was fixing to fall asleep, when, out of the lake, he heard a splash. Erik jumped up instantly, ready to attack the intruder. Instead, he saw a soaking wet Ayesha trying to swim out of the lake.

Once she did get out, she gave Erik a look that plainly said 'You just kicked me into the pond.'

"It's not a pond!" Erik called to Ayesha's retreating figure. He was then interrupted by another splash. He turned and saw a big red suit, flailing about in the murky waters. The suit went under, and didn't come back up. Erik was starting to worried. He just wanted to scare Santa into giving him a new Punjab, not kill the man! Erik started to get frantic. He just killed Santa Claus!

Just when our masked friend thought all was lost, a red suit floated up from the depths. Eventually, the suit floated to the water's edge. Erik waited until it was on the shore. Did you actually THINK that he was going to jump into the water? He was already in his pajamas! Erik looked at the suit. The man in the suit was very fat. He had white hair, and a beard. Plus, he was coughing!

"Ack!" he coughed the water of his lungs as Erik watched on dumbfounded. Santa should be dead, not coughing the water out of his lungs. Dead people can't cough the water out of their lungs. He's killed enough people to know that little fact.

"Why aren't you dead?" Erik asked, regaining his composure.

"I am immortal!" Santa replied, with an evil gleam in his eyes. Erik was starting to worry again. Santa is supposed to be a jolly old man. Not evil and immortal. That's Erik's job!

"Well, now that you're here, I'd like a new Punjab. This one is all frayed." Erik said, holding up his weapon of choice.

"No! No new weapons for you! You have been naughty! Killing poor little Joseph Boquet! Ho Ho Ho!" Santa laughed, wagging a finger

"That's not fair! And he's not little…honestly…" Erik whined like a spoilt child. Suddenly, Erik's cat ran past him and started rubbing on Santa's boots. "No, Ayesha! He's evil!"

"Of course you can have some catnip." Santa bent down and gave the Siamese cat a little ball with a feather on it.

"What about me?" Erik didn't like being ignored. Those fools had ignored his demands about Christine's future singing career and about his salary. They had paid dearly, in the way of a chandelier.

"Oh, don't worry, Erik. I haven't forgotten about you! How could I?" Santa reached into his bag and pulled out…….a neatly wrapped present.

"Oh, thank you." Erik said, as Santa handed him the gift.

"Don't open it until morning." Santa said, then snapped his fingers and he disappeared.

"I need to learn to do that." Erik said and sat his gift by his coffin, and climbed inside to get some sleep.

------------The NEXT Morning------------

"Noooooooooooo!" the occupants of the Paris Opera House heard a strong baritone voice bellow at around 7AM the next morning. They will never know for sure who it was. Many people, however, have ideas of who did it. Some think it was the ghost of Joseph Boquet. Others lay the blame to the managers, when they found out how much room service costed. Still others are positive that Carlotta was rehearsing for a new musical and she had had a sex change.

------------That Night at a Showing of Ill Muto------------

"Poor fool, he makes me laugh!" Carlotta sang…err, screeched, when she was suddenly hit by a dark piece of coal that seemed to have come from the direction of Box 5...

* * *

Well, there we go.

Erik: The end was the only good part. And I do not sound like Carlotta!

No, she had a sex change and learned how to sing.

Erik:…Psychotic little author…

…Psychotic little musical genius…

R&R!

And I want to wish each and every one of you out there in FFN land a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!


End file.
